


Beards

by glamourtentia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamourtentia/pseuds/glamourtentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Angela Ziegler’s thirtieth birthday. Right now she’s in a booth at Texas Roadhouse with her mom, her dad, and her boyfriend, Jesse McCree. Jesse is gay. So is Angela. They’re both aware of this. Mr. and Mrs. Ziegler are not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beards

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this post](http://pememeberly.tumblr.com/post/149670507703/ok-but-like-jesseangela-fake-dating-au-best) i made about fake dating gay best friends jesse and angie, turned into a pharmercy oneshot with a side of fareeha+hanzo brotp and implied mchanzo
> 
> thanks to [libra-strology](http://libra-strology.tumblr.com) for helping me with some of the ideas and looking it over to make sure it wasn't terrible!

It is Angela Ziegler’s thirtieth birthday.

Right now she’s in a booth at Texas Roadhouse with her mom, her dad, and her boyfriend, Jesse McCree. Jesse is gay. So is Angela. They’re both aware of this. Mr. and Mrs. Ziegler are not.

“I just love these rolls,” Mrs. Ziegler says. She picks up one of the buns from the bread basket between them all and looks at it wistfully. “They’re so small and soft and warm. You know what else is small, soft, and warm, that I would love? Grandchildren.”

Angela kicks Jesse under the table, and he discreetly slides a five-dollar bill out of his pocket and presses it into her waiting palm. She wins the first bet of the evening: grandchildren guilt-trip before the waiter even arrives. Jesse had thought Mrs. Ziegler would make it until they had their salads. He should have known better than to put money on that.

“I’m sure you would, Mom,” Angela says, and stops there. They’ve had this discussion three hundred and twenty-eight times, if her count is correct, and she refuses to have it again on her birthday.

“We’re just takin’ things slow,” Jesse says in a valiant attempt to be helpful.

It’s not very helpful. “You’ve been ‘taking things slow’ for ages!” Mrs. Ziegler exclaims, almost hitting Mr. Ziegler in the face with her enthusiastic air quotes. “You’ve been dating for eight years!”

They’ve actually only been dating for about two years, and it’s fake dating. Mrs. Ziegler is aware of the first part, but she chooses to ignore it. She might have a heart attack if she finds out about the second part.

“Two years,” Jesse corrects pointlessly.

“You’re thirty now, you know,” Mrs. Ziegler continues anyway. “Not getting any younger.”

Jesse puts an arm around Angela protectively. She sighs and leans into him. This is exhausting.

A server appears at their table to save them. “Hey, folks. I’m Fareeha. I’ll be your server this evening.” She’s tall and gorgeous in the black slacks and T-shirt of the Texas Roadhouse uniform, with a smile that makes Angela weak in the knees.

“Can I get you all started with something to drink?” Fareeha asks. She’s looking at the pretty blonde girl, because she can’t help it. Fareeha is also gay. Very gay.

Angela doesn’t say anything. Fareeha looks to Mr. and Mrs. Ziegler instead.

“I’d like a diet Coke with lime, please,” Mrs. Ziegler says. “And a water.”

“Same for me, please,” says Mr. Ziegler.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade,” Jesse says.

Angela still doesn’t say anything. Jesse nudges her.

“I’m thirsty,” says Angela. She wants to disappear.

This is when Jesse realizes what’s going on: Angie is flustered by the hot girl. Jesse’s never been flustered by a hot girl himself, but he has been known to get flustered over a hot guy every once in a while, so he understands. “What do you want to drink, honey? You want a strawberry lemonade too?” he suggests helpfully.

“Sure,” Angela says, even though she’d rather just have water. Trying to say that would involve too many words that could potentially turn into “I’m thirsty” again.

“Got it. I’ll be right back with those drinks for you,” Fareeha says. She smiles again and hurries back to the kitchen.

“Hanzo. Help me,” she begs her favorite coworker.

“With what?”

“Cute girl at table nine. She’s got a boyfriend. I’m too gay to deal with it. Switch me?”

Hanzo pokes his head out of the kitchen for a second to look at table nine. He sees the cute girl -- pretty, blonde, very much Fareeha’s type. Then he sees the boyfriend -- tall, scruffy, carelessly handsome. Very much his own type.

He frowns and returns to Fareeha. “Sorry. Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I would run into the same problem as you,” he says, irritated that Fareeha didn’t already think of that. “Too gay.”

Fareeha sighs. She should’ve known. Tall, scruffy, and carelessly handsome is totally Hanzo’s type.

Back at the table, Angela is opening her birthday gift from her parents. It feels tacky to open a gift in a restaurant, but with the way the evening is going so far, she doesn’t see any reason to prolong it by moving to a secondary location.

When Mr. and Mr. Ziegler had asked Angela what she wanted for her birthday, what she’d said was, “For you to not pester me about kids or marriage for my birthday week. Or even just the day. That would be fine.” Two books are in the gift bag: one is a collection of baby names, and the other is titled _How To Get Your Man To Commit_.

Jesse tries not to snort out loud. He pinches Angela’s arm, and she slips the five back to him. “Inappropriately forward birthday gifts” was a bet he’d been very confident about.

“Wow, thanks,” Angela says. Mrs. Ziegler smiles knowingly, like she’s just done something very subtle.

“So, Jesse,” Mr. Ziegler says. “What did you get Angie? Something nice, I hope. Expensive. Small.” Angela and Jesse share a look. Mr. Ziegler adds, “Like an engagement ring.”

Angela slides Jesse another five-dollar bill. She’d thought her mom would bring it up first.

“Actually, yeah, it was kinda small and pretty expensive,” Jesse says, eliciting looks of joy and glee from Mr. and Mrs. Ziegler. “You wanna tell ‘em what I got you, baby?” Jesse smirks.

Angela grins back. “This wonderful man,” she says, placing a hand on Jesse’s chest showily, “got me a box set of _Lord of the Rings_ extended edition blu-rays. Thanks again, sweetie.” She kisses Jesse on the cheek.

Jesse beams. Mr. and Mrs. Ziegler look predictably disappointed.

“You couldn’t have gotten her something a little...nicer, son?” Mr. Ziegler says, trying to be diplomatic and disapproving at the same time.

“Jesse gave me something I actually wanted,” Angela says. Mr. Ziegler pretends not to hear.

Fareeha is back. “Here are your drinks,” she says. She’s holding a tray with all six drinks on it, propped on only one hand. Her bicep bulges. So do Angela’s eyes.

Fareeha passes the drinks out. Angela narrowly avoids flinging hers across the table when their fingers brush. Fareeha almost drops the empty tray but saves it with a twirl that might have looked like it was on purpose. “Are you all ready to order? Or do you have any questions?” she asks, very smoothly and professionally, she thinks.

Angela is very impressed by Fareeha’s smoothness and professionalism, not to mention the fancy twirl she did with the tray. “Is there artificial sweetener in this?” Angela asks, pointing at her strawberry lemonade. She doesn’t know why she’s asking that. She doesn’t care. She didn’t even want strawberry lemonade.

“I think so, yes,” Fareeha answers. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks. You’re a great server,” Angela says. Jesse wishes they had some rolls left so he could stick one in Angie’s mouth.

“Well, I can promise you, there’s nothing artificial about my sweetness,” Fareeha says, and dies a little bit inside. Angela turns red.

Mr. Ziegler clears his throat. “I think we’re all ready to order,” he says irritably. He can’t tell that Fareeha is flirting with his daughter. His gaydar is terrible. He’s just really hungry.

Fareeha takes their orders and goes back to the kitchen. “I’m dying,” she tells Hanzo.

“You’re fine.”

“She asked about artificial sweetener and I told her there was nothing artificial about my sweetness.”

“Okay, that’s pretty bad.” Hanzo pats Fareeha on the shoulder sympathetically.

Fareeha is panicking. She’s served cute girls before, but not girls this cute who are with their parents and their apparently attractive boyfriends, and who seem like they might be checking her out except that they’re with said boyfriends. She is not sure how to proceed.

Mrs. Ziegler is panicking. She wishes she could just ask for a fresh basket of grandchildren to be brought out from the kitchen.

Jesse is panicking. Angela is being really gay right now, which he’s very much in favor of, to be honest, but he can’t let her accidentally out herself in a moment of weakness. But Fareeha is really hot, apparently. He’s trying to weigh the risks and benefits of his options.

Angela is panicking more than anyone else, probably. She’s too gay to function.

Table nine’s food is ready to be served. Fareeha tries to rope Hanzo into bringing it out with her. She doesn’t want to suffer alone. He evades her.

Fareeha brings out the food by herself. Her muscles are even more prominent than before. Angela thinks she might weep. Fareeha doesn’t understand why the pretty blonde looks like she’s about to start crying, but she hopes she’s okay.

Jesse has an idea. Angie won’t like it, but she’ll thank him for it later. He asks Fareeha for a refill on his strawberry lemonade.

When they’re all about halfway finished with their food, Jesse’s hand knocks into his nearly-full glass while he’s reaching for the salt. The glass falls over and sloshes strawberry lemonade all over Angela’s white shirt.

Hanzo is taking orders at table ten right next to them. He sees Jesse knock the glass over. He’s pretty sure it was on purpose.

Angela shrieks and jumps up. “Jesse!” she cries. She knows Jesse isn’t always the most graceful of fake boyfriends. But on top of the turning thirty thing, and the grandkids thing, and the marriage thing, and the hot waitress thing, it’s too much.

“I’m so sorry, Ang,” Jesse starts, but Angela flees to the ladies’ room. Jesse is thrilled.

Mr. and Mrs. Ziegler are concerned. They start to get up. “No, I’ll go,” Jesse says. “It was my fault.” They stay seated. Jesse is relieved.

Jesse heads towards the bathrooms until he’s out of sight of the table, then makes a sharp turn towards the kitchen.

Fareeha is just walking out of the kitchen, about to come and check on table nine and hopefully not make more of an idiot of herself in front of the pretty blonde. Her path is blocked by the boyfriend that she’s irrationally jealous of. He’s only barely taller than her. That gratifies her a bit.

“You need to go to the girls’ bathroom,” he says.

“Why?”

“Angie’s in there and she’s freaking out but I can’t go in because I’m, you know. A man. Can you go help her?”

This sounds weird to Fareeha, but she doesn’t really have any reason to say no, other than the fear of her gay heart exploding if she engages in an actual conversation with this _Angie_. She can’t say that. She nods and heads towards the bathroom. Jesse is triumphant.

Jesse spins around to go back to the table and runs right into someone. They both fall to the ground. Jesse jumps back up quickly and offers a hand to the person he knocked over. “Whoops. I’m real sorry about that, darlin’,” he says.

Hanzo allows the oaf who knocked him over to pull him up. He’s ready to politely apologize when he sees that it’s the boyfriend. He scowls.

Jesse’s jaw drops open because the person he’s just bulldozed is the sexiest man he’s ever seen. He understands now what the Texas Roadhouse uniform was doing to Angie.

“I saw what you did,” Hanzo says. “You spilled your drink on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” says Jesse. “By the way, is Fareeha gay? ‘Cause if not, that puts a damper on my plan.”

Hanzo is intrigued. “What plan?”

In the bathroom, Angela is seething. “Jesse is an idiot,” she says to nobody, and feels bad right away, because it's not Jesse’s fault. It's not like he spilled his strawberry lemonade all over her favorite shirt on purpose.

It’s ruined, though. She takes it off and sticks it under the hand dryer. Even if she has to wear a ruined shirt, she’s not going to wear a _wet_ shirt.

Fareeha opens the door to the bathroom. The pretty blonde has her back to the door and is shirtless. Fareeha’s jaw drops.

Angela turns around when the door opens. It’s the hot waitress. And Angela is just in her bra. She turns red. “I… Shirt,” she says.

Fareeha gulps. She is smooth and professional. “Are you okay?” she asks. She keeps her eyes on the blonde’s red face. “Your boyfriend is really worried about you.”

Angela is too pissed, embarrassed, and gay to deal. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she says. “I’m gay,” she also says.

Fareeha stares. Angela is dead.

“Would you want to go out with me sometime?” says Fareeha.

  


***

  


It is Angela Ziegler’s wedding day.

Right now she’s in a dressing room at a fancy venue with her mom, her dad, and her best man, Jesse McCree. “How do I look?” Angela asks. She twirls the skirt of her wedding gown.

“Beautiful, darlin’,” Jesse says.

Angela smiles at him and looks to Mrs. Ziegler for a second opinion. Jesse is gay, but not very fashionable.

In another dressing room, Hanzo is adjusting Fareeha’s bowtie. He is gay and very fashionable.

“There. Now it’s straight,” Hanzo says.

“Only thing about me that is,” replies Fareeha. Hanzo snorts and texts that to Jesse.

Jesse reads the text from Hanzo out loud to Angela. Angela says, “I can’t believe I’m about to marry such a pun-derful woman.”

Jesse texts that back to Hanzo. When Hanzo reads it to Fareeha, she almost starts crying.

Mr. Ziegler walks Angela down the aisle. When Fareeha sees her, her jaw drops. When Angela sees Fareeha, she wants to run all the way up the aisle.

Angela and Fareeha read their vows. They smile the whole time. It’s the most beautiful and adorable thing anyone present has ever seen. Jesse cries. So does Hanzo, but he’ll lie about it later.

“You may now kiss,” says the officiant. Angela throws herself at Fareeha, cups her face in both hands, and kisses her like there’s nothing else in the world. Fareeha wraps her arms around Angela and spins her around without breaking the kiss. Everyone cheers.

At Angela Amari-Ziegler’s wedding dinner, she’s sitting next to her wife, Fareeha Amari-Ziegler. They’re holding hands under the table.

Jesse stands to give his best man toast. He’s feeling a little tipsy, partly from the champagne, mostly from all the love and joy. He is a huge sap.

He showers praises on the happy couple and cries twice during his own toast. “And,” he says in closing, “I made it all happen by spilling my strawberry lemonade on Angie on her birthday while we were fake dating. You're welcome.”

“You ruined my favorite shirt,” Angela reminds him.

“You looked better with it off anyway,” Fareeha says. Jesse hoots and offers her a high five. She smacks it so hard his hand stings. Hers does, too, but she doesn’t notice, because she’s kissing her wife.


End file.
